


Stray Kids

by kalyma9



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: no editing we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:55:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25633162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalyma9/pseuds/kalyma9
Summary: Chan unlocked the door and opened it as quietly as possible. It was 3:00 AM and he didn’t want to wake anybody up.He needn’t have bothered. No one was asleep.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 127





	Stray Kids

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little something written at 3 AM when insomnia struck again.

Chan unlocked the door and opened it as quietly as possible. It was 3:00 AM and he didn’t want to wake anybody up.

He needn’t have bothered. No one was asleep. 

The scene that met his eyes defied description. He stood in shocked silence, trying to take it all in. Finally he gave up, kicked his shoes off, and stepped into oatmeal… 

_Oatmeal?_

Yes, oatmeal. 

Jisung came shrieking by him, chased by Felix who had streaks of paint on his face. Before Chan could fully process that, Hyunjin ran past with a lightsaber yelling “Charge!”, Seungmin following close behind, brandishing a plastic katana. The four runners circled a chair in the middle of the living room. That’s when Chan noticed Changbin tied to the chair, with pillows piled around him. To make matters worse, apparently a couple of the pillows had burst, and feathers were floating everywhere. As he stood staring, a small white feather gently drifted down and landed on his nose. 

He heard pounding and turned his head. Jeongin was pounding on a bedroom door and Minho was yelling from inside, “No, I’m not coming out! And you can’t make me!”

The other four dashed past Chan again, causing him to step back to avoid being run over. He stumbled backward into the kitchen, where his feet made contact with something sticky. Looking down, he discovered syrup all over the floor. Some of the feathers had floated in and landed in the syrup. Chan was trying to figure out how to get out of the sticky mess, when Hyunjin and Seungmin came running back into the living room yelling, “To the Fort! To the Fort!”

They ran to the back corner of the room, dropped, and crawled into what Chan could now see, was a pillow and blanket fort. Felix and Jisung soon followed and stood outside the fort. “Surrender!” yelled Jisung fiercely. “Or we’ll burn your comrade at the stake.”

“No, no, save me!” shrieked Changbin convincingly. 

Jeongin trotted over. “Hyungs, Minho-hyung won’t come out. He says he refuses to play the ‘damsel in distress’, that someone else can be the girl.”

“But he lost the game.” Felix whined. Just then Minho came stalking out, wearing a bed sheet like a skirt. 

“Whose idea was this anyway,” he growled, tearing it off and throwing it to the ground.

They all started arguing, the two coming out of the fort to join in. Chan figured it was time to step in.

“Enough!” he bellowed.

Silence.

“Alright, who started it _this_ time?!”

Fingers pointed, each at a different person. 

Chan glared at them all.

“It’s Innie’s fault!” accused Jisung.

“ _My_ fault?”

“Yeah, you wanted pancakes.”

“So, how does that make this _my_ fault?”

“No, it’s not his fault, it’s yours.” Hyunjin pointed at Jisung. “If you hadn’t shot at Innie with the bow and arrow…”

“It’s Felix’s fault. He wanted to watch that American movie.” Seungmin pointed accusingly. 

“Don’t blame me because Seungie is a bad shot. Changbin-hyung is the one who said ‘Wouldn't it be cool if we had our own fort’.” Felix defended 

“And rolled me off the couch where I was sleeping, just to get the pillows.” Hyunjin scoffed. 

“I said I was sorry.” snapped Changbin.

“Minho-hyung started it.” Jeongin chimed in again.

“Me? How is this my fault?” Minho demanded.

“You said you were hungry and started talking about food. That made me hungry, so…”

“So nothing.” Minho was getting upset.

“It’s clearly Jisung’s fault.” Changbin pointed out. “He’s the one that shot the syrup out of Innie’s hand.”

“Doesn’t mean you had to throw my bow onto the light fixture.” Jisung grumbled. 

Chan shot a look at the kitchen ceiling. Sure enough, there hung a toy bow. 

The seven were now arguing just who exactly started it, all talking at once. Chan closed his eyes and visions of the other week danced through his head. Balloons, helium, ducks, body wash- he pulled himself up short. He had promised himself never, _never,_ to go there again. Ever.

He opened his eyes in time to see they were about to come to blows.

“Enough!” He yelled again.

And again, silence.

“I. Don’t. Care. Who. Started. It.” He stated emphatically. “Just clean it up.”

Chan swept a tired hand through his hair, dislodging a couple of feathers in the process. He watched them float to the floor, landing on a pile of oatmeal. 

He sighed. “I know I’m going to regret this, but why the oatmeal?”

They all beamed, except Minho, who glowered.

“Our fort was in the desert..” began Jisung.

“And we needed sand,” continued Felix. 

“Since we didn’t have any…” went on Hyunjin.

“We decided to use the oatmeal.” finished Seungmin.

At Chan’s longsuffering look, Changbin went on. “You remember that whole case of oatmeal someone gave us months ago, that we never used.”

“Yeah, oatmeal is gross.” Seungmin made a face.

“You know we were never gonna use it, hyung.” Jisung told him.

“So we decided to scatter it for the sand.” Jeongin beamed proudly. 

“It was the best part of the night!” Felix bounced excitedly. They all giggled, except Minho. 

“Well I didn’t think it was very funny when you dumped a whole canister over my head because I wouldn’t help. I don’t think I’ll ever get it all out of my hair.” Minho shook his head violently, and several grains of oat flew out. The others giggled again.

“You’re just salty because you lost Rock, Paper, Scissors, and had to be the girl.” Felix told him.

“I still say you cheated.” Minho retorted.

“Did not!” Felix answered, and just like that, they were all arguing again.

“STOP!” thundered Chan.

Frozen silence.

“I don’t care who did what to who when. Just clean up this mess!” and he stalked off on sticky feet to take a shower and reflect on his life choices.


End file.
